


Flowers from God

by arsenicarose



Series: DreamNotFound COMFORT Fics [17]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on George's Lore Stream, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Lore (Video Blogging RPF), DreamXD - Freeform, DreamXD is a god, DreamXD uses it/its pronouns, Flowers, George Lore, Gift Giving, Headcanon, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Emotional Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lore theory, M/M, Men Crying, Minor Descriptions of Violence/Pain, Not Canon Compliant, Reunion, SMP Spoilers, Sad with a Happy Ending, Set in the SMP, Simp Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Spoilers up to 2/26/21, minor changes to canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicarose/pseuds/arsenicarose
Summary: George has the love of a god. It’s everything he could ever want, and far more than he can handle.(AKA George's lore is actually really sad if you look at it, and he deserves a god to comfort him)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/DreamXD
Series: DreamNotFound COMFORT Fics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050791
Comments: 70
Kudos: 449
Collections: MCYT, how tf do i find this, lewi's fav





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> #GeorgeLore! But actually, why did I take the lore stream this seriously? 😅
> 
> Also, DreamXD uses it/its pronouns in this.

George doesn’t think about it often. It rarely affected him, and he only got the occasional reminder, but then something would happen, and it would hit him all at once.

He had the love of a god.

DreamXD was a distant god, rarely heard of or spoken about. There had only been one significant mention of him. Technoblade and Philza once came running to the group, speaking of a deity that descended from the heavens to destroy a forbidden portal to another world, a being that trailed clouds and smoke and destroyed blocks in one hit with its bare hands. That story sent shivers through everyone’s mind, but that was all anyone had ever seen of it.

Well anyone, except for George. It took him a while to realize it, but things were… softer for him. People from every country kind of considered him the runt of the litter, and he was often left to storm off in a fury as they mocked him, stole his stuff, killed him, or all three, trying to hide how much it affected him that they treated him so poorly.

But how often had he been running through the trees, trailing tears like rain on the grass, rubbing his eyes and cursing everyone under his breath, then found something… nice? It was always something small, but so clearly for him. Sometimes, it was a bouquet of pretty flowers, floating on the ground. Sometimes it was food. Once, it had been a weapon, a kind of permission to take his revenge. It was hard to ignore there was _something_ out there, but he kind of assumed it was just Dream.

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

Regardless of who it was, it made him feel better. There were a lot of times where George felt very alone, because he was. More often than not, he was left behind, forgotten, dropped, and pulled away from all the good things that were given to him. So many nights were spent curled in his bed, sobbing into his pillow and wondering why everyone _hated_ him, why they _abandoned_ him, why he wasn’t wanted, and, sometimes, he’d wake up to a poppy on his pillow, like a silent apology, and the ghost of a kiss on his cheek. It helped.

When George heard the story of DreamXD from Phil, he couldn’t help but wonder, was it the one doing those things? Was it Dream or the secretive god of their world who could build and destroy instantly? He couldn’t ask. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. There was so much vulnerability in those nights he spent mourning in solitude, and he didn’t want to confess to their existence out loud, even if he knew the person who doted on him was already aware. To say that those lonely nights did hurt him was to confess to caring, and he couldn’t let anyone know that.

Instead, he decided to leave a note. He had one prepared, kept on his person, ready for the next time something bizarre happened. It burned a hole in his pocket as he tore through the grasslands, disappearing among the huge dark oaks, his favorite place to hide. There was something comforting about the tall, dark trees and the abundance of mushrooms. It felt like home.

As he wiped away the unwanted tears with clenched fists, he came across a bloom of orchids in the shade, shaped to form a heart. In the very center was a single golden apple and a scattering of golden carrots. He gathered them into his arms, holding them to his chest and cherishing the intent, before he dumped them into his inventory. He always treasured the little gifts and the comfort they brought. Having them made everything more bearable, and, this time, the note was with him. The ground was soft beneath his knees as he sank down, carefully placing the letter in the very center of the flower heart, before quickly scampering away.

_My Dear Guardian,_

_I don’t know why you have decided to grace me in this way, but I want you to know that I appreciate you. Your attentions have not gone unnoticed, and every gift has meant the world to me._

_Thank you,_

_George._

His heart soared, feeling like he was finally forging something real with the someone who cared enough to remember him. It didn’t escape his notice that the flowers were blue, the only bright thing in his dull world. The consideration stitched him back together and made it possible to march back to his empty home.

The next morning, there was a small slip of paper by his head, with a cornflower lying on top of it.

_I love you, George._

The note was short, but sweet, and written in the most impossibly beautiful cursive script. It didn’t give him a lot of information, but it gave him warmth. George folded the note up carefully and tucked it into a secret pocket on his shirt, so that it lay close to his heart, a reminder that someone cared.

From then on, the gifts started getting bolder, and so did Dream, though it seemed unrelated. The huge wall was built around L’Manburg, encasing it in impenetrable rock, and there was fire and brimstone in Dream’s eyes, the likes of which George had never seen, all for him, even though barely anything had been done. Being protected was strange, but it made him feel safe and secure in a way he couldn’t describe. He let himself lean into it, egging Dream on and reveling in the power he had. Dream might not have been a god, but he had powers and abilities like none other, and he was defending George. It felt good.

Dream quickly fell away from him though. The fire in his eyes became a scorching callousness that stung and burned. It had started as a kind of warmth and comfort, but it quickly became suffocating, then melting, and George had to pull away, choking and gasping. Dream’s consideration quickly became something to drown in, unless he fell in line, and George couldn’t find the line.

He never thought he would be forced to flee, tears streaming unbidden down his face, from Dream himself, but there he was, escaping the heated argument with Dream by disappearing into the trees once again. It hurt more than any other time he had run, and he could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces. Dream was always the exception, or he _had_ been.

What almost made it worse, in a petty way, was that George was sure there would be no gifts waiting for him in the woods. If Dream had been his secret benefactor, there was no way he would get that small comfort this time. It wasn’t about the gifts themselves, though. It was the knowledge that someone, _anyone_ , was thinking of him, was concerned about his well-being. How could he live in these lonely lands without his secret admirer helping him, reminding him that someone cared?

He turned a corner and was immediately taken back by the display. In the center of the dark oak forest was a field of flowers, every single kind represented. They were packed so tightly together that it was just a wall of petals and greenery, waving slightly in the breeze. His hand flew to his mouth, and the tears spilled anew, as a small flicker of hope burst inside him. Was this Dream’s way of apologizing to him, of admitting his affection in private? Had Dream _really_ dethroned him to keep him safe?

The flowers had no answers for him, but there was a small hole in the very center, so George picked his way through the stems and leaves, careful not to step on any, until he could reach it. As he got closer, he realized that the entire field of blossoms was shaped into a giant heart, which he couldn’t see from the bottom, and his own heart soared again.

The clearing was marked by a single square of carpet that matched the ground around it. Underneath was a chest, with stacks of steak, potatoes, iron, coal, and wood. There was also a single god apple and a note. George ignored everything but the note for a moment, because he so desperately needed clarity.

_George,_

_I am so sorry for what he did to you. I thought he would be better, but I was wrong. You deserve the world, and soon, I’ll give it to you._

_Love,_

_DreamXD_

For a moment, George’s heart actually stopped. He felt the world begin to tip as he collapsed, overwhelmed by the weight of the knowledge that had just been bestowed to him. After a couple of seconds, his heart restarted, arching his entire body and sending a rattling gasp of air into his lungs.

He actually had the love of a _god_.

When he had considered options before, having the god of the smp as his admirer was a complete meme, something he had considered, but only as a joke because of how _ridiculous_ it was, but the truth rested in the palm of his shaking hand. Some part of him wanted to convince him it was a prank or a joke, but the spectacular handwriting and the power that hummed off the page told him otherwise.

He gave himself a little while to recover from his fainting spell, before lifting his shaking body from the ground, brushing off all the dirt and stray sticks and turning back to the chest. Rejecting all those gifts could be considered an insult, so there was no other option but to take them.

For a while, nothing happened to George, and he heard nothing from the god. There were no gifts, no notes, no flowers. It kind of hurt, but the note felt so sincere, so full of love, that he told himself he just had to be patient. He felt right to his very bones that, eventually, things would be better.

Outside of George’s self-imposed, depressed isolation after losing his crown, things happened very fast. Countries fell, people lost everything, and Dream went completely mad. George couldn’t bring himself to bear witness to Dream’s descent, or the in-fighting of all his friends. He didn’t have anything anymore, and that was fine with him. He just sat in his house, munching on his ridiculous food supplies, wondering, and waiting.

Then Dream was thrown in jail, and it stabbed into George’s heart more than he thought it would. Despite this, George refused to visit him. Things between them had never recovered after Dream had rejected him, and there was no reason to fix it now. George couldn’t help Dream with his apparent dark path, and Dream couldn’t help George with his loneliness. It may have been selfish, but George was tired (so very tired) of people leaving him, and he didn’t want to reconnect with someone who was trapped in a box.

The night Dream went to prison, though, George had a vision in his sleep. A beautiful being, almost too pretty to witness with his eyes, appeared before him. It wore a mask, so similar to Dream’s that it stung, but this being was different. This was someone else.

In a haunting voice, an incredible echo so filled to bursting with life that it threatened to break him, the being spoke. “I love you, George. You have been so patient, and soon, I will give you whatever you want.”

George woke with a start, heart pounding and sweat pouring off him in sheets. He knew exactly what the words meant, but he couldn’t possibly understand. What was so special about him anyway?

Those visions started coming regularly, though the brilliance of the deity was far toned down after the first time, as if it knew the power of it overwhelmed George. After the initial visit, George started to relish their time together. He never felt more safe, secure, and _loved_ than in the arms of the god that watched over him. It could be any size, so it could walk beside him as tall as a man, or it could become larger than any person could ever be, absolutely enveloping George in its embrace with such affection that he could burst.

The night became the only place George cared about. The drama of the waking world was so beyond him, and, though he loved his friends, there was no teasing, no denial, no exclusion, in the arms of his god. There was only understanding and unconditional love. George didn’t think he had ever been happier.

Sometimes, he and DreamXD would talk, and soon he started to learn. XD was the one who controlled their lands, who fixed the issues as they popped up, and kept everything in control. That was why he had never simply given George full netherite armor; there had to be balance. 

As for Dream, that was the god trying to meet with him. Gods are not supposed to fall for their charges, but DreamXD couldn’t help but love George, to the point that it was painful, so it created Dream, a manifestation of it as a demi-human, with just enough power to keep him interesting and alive. But Dream was fallible and not enough of a god to manage the equilibrium. He had enough human nature in him to make him greedy, to make him _want_ , and what he wanted was more _power_ , not George.

Something foul had felt that greed, the connection to divinity, and corrupted him from the inside, had filled him with rot until it poured out his mouth and poisoned everything around him. A demon, with nothing but ill intent, had taken over the projection of a deity and run rampant through the server, causing the kind of mayhem only a demi-god could.

So Dream had to be locked away.

George hadn’t been sure how to take all that, but he supposed it didn’t matter anymore. Instead of getting the watered down, sometimes affection of a man absorbing power to feed his god complex, he had a god, and there was no purer love than that. He was spoiled. He was at peace. He was free.

He wanted to show off.

DreamXD loved him more than anything, even though it shouldn’t, and so it would do _anything_ George asked. The request was simple, mostly a display of force, something to make those who had been cruel to him regret it and feel the kind of fear that only comes from having a deity against you.

After some hesitance, DreamXD, the god of the entire smp, appeared before him, his true form toned down for mortal eyes, to dazzle Quackity and BadBoyHalo. His god manifested food and materials from thin air, producing items in quantities that shouldn’t be possible, just to show everyone it could. It changed the color of an entire layer of blocks, and fixed the land, moving the very dirt so it would be flat for George’s build. 

And, of course, DreamXD _doted_ on him. Anything George wanted, George got. It felt good, and he got a little rowdy, a little full of himself. He started to push and tease. He wanted to see how far he could go before the generosity ran out.

It ran out all at once.

Quackity chased after George, axe in hand, threatening and laughing maniacally. George was _screaming_ for DreamXD to help immediately, even though he had literally hit his friend unprompted, and his god came, axe in hand, to strike Quackity down.

Quackity was terrified, and he disappeared, hiding in that secret place they went whenever they weren’t there, taunting them from a realm that even DreamXD couldn’t reach.

George went mad. He commanded his deity to trap Quackity, to make sure he would die an agonizing death. DreamXD pulled unbreakable blocks out of the air, surrounding the poor man's waking location, and dumped molten lava inside. George just laughed. He was ripe with power, fit to burst, and he reveled in it. Other friends were ordered to die, and DreamXD complied. George told them how great he was, that he had the help of a god, and there was nothing they could do. He was greedy, and he _wanted_.

He sought _more_ power.

DreamXD’s beautiful voice poured over him, a sweet comfort, but the words sank into his flesh like sharp teeth. “I’m sorry, my love.”

Then, George was tossed into the lava.

His skin _burned_ , and he felt all of it as he melted, shredding his throat with the cries of pain. Then there was blackness, and, for a moment, he floated in the abyss. That wasn’t the first time he had died, but it was the first time he thought about it. Did DreamXD personally bring them back when they went to that empty place? Would the being who had just killed him be the one to save him now?

As he sat in the void, Quackity’s voice rang through, still somehow able to communicate with him as he languished beyond the grave, and it ripped him to shreds. “Look at you. Look at you fall into despair and death, thinking you're one step above, but you have no one on your side, George, nobody! Nobody has ever been on your side, ever, George! That's the funny part! Your little moments where you think you have any sort of power? They're just amusing, George. They are just amusing to me.”

A gust of air blew through his lungs, and he gasped, opening his eyes to bright sunlight from a bed in the side of a mountain. He had been resurrected, but at what cost? Why had he died in the first place?

The world spun around him, and suddenly, he was next to DreamXD, who was trying to hold him close, apologizing and promising it wasn’t intentional. It had only meant to injure, to chide him, not to kill. A tear leaked out of George, and he realized it was the first time he had ever cried because of DreamXD. That stung more than he thought it would, and he flipped away, enraged and aching.

The lava sang to him. Maybe this time, he would get to die for good?

DreamXD’s murmured reassurances passed over him like water, and he barely felt it. Quackity’s mocking words, his laughter, and even the laughter of the man he considered a real friend, Bad, rang through his ears. He pitched forward, back into the pit of molten rock.

This time, it didn’t hurt. It was the warm embrace of freedom, and he welcomed it. He sank into it like it was an old friend. He died to his god’s desperate screams.

Another gasp of cool air, and he was back, sitting in his same bed from before. He didn’t bother to try walking, knowing that DreamXD would call for him, would pull him toward it. He curled in on himself, resting his chin on his knees as he held his legs close to him.

It had never occurred to him to be scared of DreamXD before.

A moment passed, and he was sitting on the ground next to the lava trap. Despair and desperation rolled off DreamXD in waves, and George was scooped up, enveloped, curled into an embrace to make him feel safe as apologies splattered across him like rain.

George felt like a desert.

DreamXD was a god, and it didn’t understand. What’s a little death when you can be resurrected? What’s the loss of everything you own when your deity can give you everything? What is betrayal if _you_ were going too far?

George tried to understand, but it was hard, and it hurt. 

Before all this had happened, there had been times during their long discussions where George would suddenly realize how insignificant he was. The special attention he was given was pure chance, some fluke where a being of such power had witnessed him and chosen him, but, besides that, he was actually nothing.

He felt like nothing.

“I’m by your side, George,” DreamXD insisted, whispering right into his ear as it held him. “I love you.” An impossible hand reached out and caressed George’s cheek, wiping his tears away with a thumb.

George believed him, but it didn’t take the emotion away completely. “I know,” he replied, even as he didn’t.

It took some time, but George was able to understand better. At least his god stayed with him after, comforted him, and swore it would never happen again.

After a lot of talking, explanation, and boundary setting, they started again. George fell back into isolation, too exhausted by Quackity’s cruelty to even try to return to the mainlands. He stayed wrapped in DreamXD’s arms forever, and they just talked and enjoyed each other. Occasionally, his deity would summon things to make him happy, some food, a flower, a new pet. Time healed the betrayal, and explanation helped keep it from scarring.

But George never forgot. He let himself fall back into the arms of his beloved god, accepted the gifts, even let himself love it, but, always, in the back of his mind, he knew that if he went too far, he could lose it all.

So he didn’t push.


	2. Ascending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Well_Wisher here on ao3! They managed to inspire this second chapter with their second comment. <3

Dream didn’t think he could have missed nature that much, but as he sucked in the fresh air outside those dank prison walls, he felt tears welling in his eyes. Obsidian surrounding him at all times, combined with the boiling hot wall of lava, had always left his tongue with a coating of rocky dust, and the tears from the crying stone were foul and sometimes stung. It was grating to be surrounded by that for so long, and not even have a bed to pass the time. Just the same four walls, some books, and his own mind for company.

His mind was not good company.

That was all behind him though. He took another deep breath, savoring the crispness of the cool breeze, the taste of fresh water, leaves, and grass. He had not realized how rotten he felt until he got to be cleansed.

Despite his new found freedom, he wasn’t sure where to go. He hadn’t exactly left the prison with permission, and most people would put him right back in if they found him, or worse. How could he explain that the demon had abandoned him the moment he was locked up, rending him from the inside out and leaving him hollow and tattered? How could he explain the regret, the pull to be better, and the changes he had gone through? He was a good man, and all he wanted was to bring everyone back together.

~~ So he could  _ kill _ them for betraying him. ~~

No. No! He would not think like that anymore. He was a changed man, and there would be no more murder or manipulations. He was better than that.

He had to be, for George.

Just thinking the name sent a stabbing pain into his gut. George hadn’t visited him once in his long stay in prison, no matter how many times he asked. As time went on, people started looking sheepish and awkward about it, unable to meet his steely gaze when he asked why not. It took months of this before Bad finally cracked.

~~~

_ “I asked Dream, and Sapnap did too! He didn’t want to come. Not that it matters now.” Bad’s eyes were completely fixed on the clock, or rather where the clock had once been, as if that block was interesting. What could be so awful that he hadn’t noticed he was looking at nothing? _

_ Dream tried to keep his voice even. He was a changed man, and he didn’t resort to manipulation or shouting. “What do you mean, ‘not that it matters now?’ What happened?” _

_ Bad’s gaze popped over to Dream for a moment, and there was so much guilt there. “No one told you? Dream… George ran away. No one’s seen him in months.” _

_ “WHAT?!” Dream’s voice was too loud, too enraged. He took a deep breath, and another, and tried again. “What? He ran away? Why? Where did he go?” _

_ Shame hunched Bad’s shoulders, forcing him to crumble right in front of Dream’s eyes. “We don’t know why…” Lie. “But yes, he did run away.” Truth. “And we have no idea where he ended up. He just disappeared, strangely enough.” Truth. _

_ “You know why,” Dream spat, getting closer, “Tell me! What happened? What did you  _ do _ to him, Bad?” _

_ “Guard?!” Bad called, suddenly filled with terror and backing away. _

_ “No!” Dream growled, lunging at him, “Tell me what happened, NOW!” _

_ Panic creased Bad’s features, but he managed to cross the boundary just as the netherite blocks went up. “I’m so sorry, Dream. We didn’t… It was just a game, honest! It was all in good fun, but… It was too much, I guess. Please, don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine! He has-” He babbled away nervously, desperately waiting for the wall of lava to fall so he could escape, wilting under Dream’s glare,\ and barely catching himself before he revealed that last piece. _

_ “He has what?” Dream’s voice was completely flat, without any emotion. It scared even him. _

_ The platform appeared, cutting through the dregs of molten rock as it fell away. “Just know he’s safe. That’s all we know.” With that, Bad hopped onto the platform, letting it take him away. _

_ Dream slammed into the netherite, howling his rage and frustration to the uncaring black box. What did George have? Or  _ who? _ Dream could scream forever, but no one cared. No one even listened. The lava was rather effective at blocking off his anguish. All he had left to do was sit on the hard, unyielding floor and let his mind rot, thinking about George. _

~~~

Dream shook his head aggressively, trying to dislodge the memory. It didn’t matter where George was. He had abandoned Dream, had never visited, and ran away without saying goodbye. There was nothing left for him with George, no matter how much it hurt him.

All of his friends had told him that he was evil, that he  _ belonged _ behind bars, and he couldn’t trust any of them, so he ran away too. Once he figured out what direction the mainland was, he turned around and ran full speed the other way. His inventory was completely empty, except for ten raw potatoes, an empty bucket, and a diamond pickaxe, so it was time to start over, almost from scratch.

He found a tree and punched it.

~~~

Getting supplies was easy for him. By the time the morning sun streaked into the sky, he had iron tools, food, and half leather/half iron armor. It wasn’t as good as what he once had, but it was better than being naked and defenseless. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands, of blocks between him and that cursed prison by that point, but he just kept going. Far away wasn’t going to be far enough, especially since everyone would be looking for him. His goal was to disappear completely.

That meant no sleeping, though he did pair with a bed before destroying it so he wouldn’t get sucked back into the dark hole that had held him. Exhaustion tugged at the corner of his mind, especially with the pace he was taking, but it didn’t stop him for even a second. He had gone for weeks, months, without sleep before, though that was before the demon had shredded him from the inside.

Dream could feel it crawling around the edges of his skull, trying to find a way back in. He was free now, and completely capable of using his godly powers to obliterate the server and everyone in it, but he didn’t want to. He just wanted to be free.

~~~

A week later, when he finally managed to put a full hundred thousand meters between him and what he had once called home, he let himself rest. He was fully kitted out by that point, having ventured once again into the nether to search for debris. It made him feel good, and what made him feel better was the untouched village that he nudged into having the supplies he needed. Having overpowered gear made him feel much safer, and he hoped that if they ever  _ did _ find him, he could escape.

He killed a  _ lot _ of endermen for their pearls.

With his divinity, he shouldn’t have gotten so tired, but he had been cut off so long, pushed so far, driven to such painful isolation, that he found himself genuinely needing to sleep. It felt like an admission of weakness, but there was no one to witness it, so he supposed it didn’t matter. The bed was nestled high in the branches of a dark oak tree, hidden and secure. The smell of oak leaves and fat, ripe mushrooms sent a pulse of pain through his body, though. George loved these forests.

The moment he closed his eyes, he was asleep. The blackness behind his eyelids was quickly replaced by a brilliant light, so bright it  _ burned _ . Dream was forced to look away, covering his eyes with an arm.

“I’m so sorry, dear one. I forget sometimes how intense it can be for mortals.” The voice echoed from everywhere in a dizzying way, and it sounded almost… familiar?

Dream let his arm drop, blinking in the still luminous, though far more tolerable, environment. “Who are you? What’s going on?”

“You do not remember?” The voice asked, sadness pouring from its tone. “Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t… How could you?”

It was getting far too ominous for Dream, and he found himself  _ itching _ to escape. His fingers twitched, thinking of weapons.

The voice clicked it’s tongue in disappointment. “So violent, Dream. It’s not a good look for you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Dream growled, spinning around to find the source of the sound.

A being appeared in front of him, and Dream blinked in surprise. The being was  _ him _ , albeit it a little different. A mask hung over its face, but it wasn’t a smile, it was an X, carved right into it. Everything else was the same, or so close to it that no one would be able to tell, and it was creepy. Dream was plummeting face first into an uncanny valley, and he couldn’t find a way out.

“You may call me ‘XD’ for now. I cannot explain to you who I am. I can only show you. Come to me, and I will set you free, my child. You have suffered enough, and I can heal you.” The voice swore in earnest.

It was too good to be true, and Dream felt the promises stab him like daggers to the chest. “Well, ‘XD,’ I can’t say I’m interested in that. This is the creepiest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and I don’t want you to show me  _ anything _ . I shouldn’t have had to suffer at all, and I don’t  _ need _ healing!”

The mouth beneath the mask pitched down into a frown. “Dear one, I am so sorry you feel this way, but I promise, it’s in your best interest. I know you don’t remember me, but I  _ know _ you, and you  _ need _ me. You won’t make it otherwise.”

“Oh fuck off,” Dream scoffed, “I don’t need you. I’m doing just fine. My former friends will  _ never _ find me.”

“It is not your friends you need saving from.”

“So you’re going to save me from myself? That’s ridiculous.”  _ I can’t be saved _ , Dream thought bitterly.

The imposter Dream took a step forward, reaching out with ambiguous intent. “You can be saved, my son. I can save you.” When Dream jumped back, like he’d been bitten, the voice added. “I have George.”

“WHAT?!” Dream shouted, surging forward, “How? Why? What are you doing to him?”

The being showed no concerns, no fear for its life, simply continuing to speak as if Dream wasn’t trying to attack it. “I am not harming him, and I have no intent to do so. In fact,  _ he _ sought  _ me _ out, Dream. I am keeping him safe.”

“Fuck you!” Dream snarled, “You can’t possibly care about him, not more than me!”

“Come get him, then. We’re waiting for you.”

Dream stopped his uselessly flailing against the being in his path, falling back with confusion and fear. “Is this a trap?”

A reassuring smile appeared below the mask. “I promise you that it is not.”

“How can I possibly trust you?” Dream demanded.

The being simply smiled wider, revealing a set of perfect teeth, and pulled the mask away. It was like looking into a mirror, albeit a mirror that showed you a divine version of yourself. “Because I am you, my love. Come home.”

Dream woke with a start, fighting the bed sheet and nearly falling out of the tree. The first light of the morning streaked through the sky, painting it with reds and oranges as he watched.

He had no idea what to do.

It read like a trap, like the demon trying to wrestle him back under its claws, but his heart was ready to go. If George was there, that’s where he wanted to be, no matter how stupid it seemed.

At first, he wasn’t sure what he was meant to do or where he was supposed to go, but then there was… a feeling, a kind of itch in the back of his skull, and it guided him. It pointed him in a direction and gave him a little nudge. Dream sighed, frustrated that his travel plans were going to be vaguely based on a feeling he was having, but he supposed there wasn’t much choice. After sorting through all his items, filling his inventory with just the essentials, he began his journey.

Not knowing when the trip would end or what was on the other side was a kind of hell. Dream had, of course, experienced far worse things in his life, but it was frustrating. Just one continuous slog through the wilds, getting progressively further from the place he used to call home, zigzagging through each biome based on a feeling in his gut and the hope that George would be there. At one point, he suddenly was sure that he had seen every biome there was to see, and it made him feel like he had been traveling for longer than any reasonable person should.

The pull became stronger gradually, until it felt like he was being dragged against his will. Terror streaked through him, especially when he realized  _ there was no escape _ . Eventually, the draw was so much that he couldn’t turn back, couldn’t stop, couldn’t do anything but follow it. He wondered if he would find his salvation, or if he was a willing lamb, walking naively right into slaughter.

He tried not to think about it too much. There was nothing he could actually do.

Finally, it stopped all at once, and he found himself stumbling toward a beautiful cabin. It was built of warped dark oaks and twisted mushrooms that had been shaped by some divine will, almost normal, but with a touch of  _ wrongness _ that read as unnatural and impossible.

Despite this, it still blended in well with the forest around it. It was half tucked under a mountainous overhang, crowded in the front with real trees and fungi to hide the manufactured shape beyond. If he hadn’t been looking for something, been yanked across grasslands and forests to get to that exact spot, he could have easily missed it.

The incessant tugging had stopped though, and he realized that he was free. If he wanted to, he could run. He could escape and never look back.

Instead, he walked up and knocked on the door. There was a soothing presence all around him, a half remembered song, and it told him that everything would be alright. He had never been to this cabin before, but it felt like home. It was an easy decision, honestly. If he was walking into his death, at least he would go with a smile on his face.

The door was thrown open to reveal, “George?”

“Dream!” George was practically bouncing with delight. “Oh my gosh, it’s so lovely to see you! I’m so glad you made it!”

It was too good to be true. George,  _ his _ George, hated Dream more than anything. There were no happy greetings and warm smiles for Dream, or there shouldn’t have been. This man couldn’t have been the one who never visited, never wrote, then ran away. “What’s going on?” Dream asked, coldly.

Even if he wasn’t real, watching George’s face fall still hurt. The smile shattered, splintered pieces smashing into the ground between them. “It’s good to see you too.”

“You  _ hate _ me, George,” Dream hissed, “You told me yourself.”

“I never hated you, Dream,” George whispered, his gaze meeting Dream’s with fiery determination. “I was furious, hurt,  _ heart-broken _ , but I  _ never _ hated you.”

It was too good to be true. Dream just had to keep reminding himself. “I don’t  _ want _ you to hate me, Georgie, but you did.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel or felt,” George spat, taking a step forward and forcing Dream back. “You weren’t  _ there _ . You can’t possibly know.”

“George, darling?” A voice called, half familiar, half remembered.

The fury in George’s eyes dropped immediately, and a sheepish expression crossed his face. “Sorry, my love… I forgot. The old wounds are still tender, I suppose.”

“Invite him in, please?” The voice was soothing, soft, and kind. It sounded like home, like a mother Dream had forgotten and a safety he had never known. Tears started to well in the corner of his eyes, but he couldn’t tell why. Thank goodness for the mask.

“I’m sorry, Dream. You didn’t come here for a lecture, and I’m sure you’ve suffered enough. Come on in.” George stepped back, past the entryway and into the little cabin. Warm, homey smells wafted through the open door, making everything more enticing.

Most of his energy was going to ignoring the pet names George and the voice had exchanged. The whole setup was so painfully domestic, and Dream’s jealousy was roaring, rearing up, trying to get free and destroy something,  _ anything _ , to feel better, to escape this perfect place and the perfect relationship, all manifested perfectly without  _ him _ .

A life like this would have bored him to death, but he would die for George again and again.

Dream stepped inside, taking in the lovely, little cottage, very similar to the house that Dream had started a war over all those years ago. How long had it been? Why had he even done it? To keep George? Because that had clearly worked so well for him.

“Dream, my dearest one, I’m so glad you came.” The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once, and it sang to him. “Welcome home.”

“Home?” Dream turned, and found himself face to face with… himself, or rather, the illusive ‘XD.’ There were differences, as there had been in the dream, but the similarities were even more striking in the waking world, especially since power wasn’t pouring off of him in waves. That was probably for George’s benefit though.

“Yes, my child, home. All of this is as much yours as it is mine.” The being gestured to a plush seat, leather wrapped around something soft.

Dream took it without considering the potential danger. He felt… safe. “What are you talking about?”

George’s eyes widened, and he glanced between the two Dreams. “He really doesn’t remember…”

“How could he? It’s impossible to contain a god in the limiting frame of a man, even the tiny piece I gave him.” When XD turned to George, a smile formed beneath his mask immediately, like a reflex.

It hurt to watch. “What the  _ hell _ are you talking about?”

The Dream imposter looked at him, lips pursed, and pulled off his mask, revealing Dream’s own face, but absolutely  _ perfect _ . There was no other way to describe it other than godly. “I can tell you, but I don’t know how much you will believe.”

“Just tell me.”

So XD began to speak, weaving a tale of the forbidden love between a god and a mortal. The gifts, the small comforts, the realization that it  _ needed _ , and George wanted in return.

It also spoke of creation, of pulling a piece of its very soul off to place onto the earth, to send out into the world so that some small bit of XD could taste the heaven of knowing George, and how the fragment was damned, descending to a place that divinity couldn’t follow, and lost, seemingly forever. Dream realized very quickly that he was the piece. He  _ had _ to be.

And he had  _ failed _ .

“The demon that tainted you, corrupted you, and has abandoned you. I can feel your screaming ache, the damage to your soul, through the entire SMP. George and I have talked, and we have decided to take you back, if you want. I can heal you, return you to me, and protect you for as long as the world turns, if you desire it,” XD finished.

Dream was completely stunned and unable to speak for a long time. How was he supposed to take the fact that he was a  _ god _ , or at least part of one? He wouldn’t have believed it, but it rang through him, an absolute truth, and one he had no idea how to digest.

A hand came to rest on his, and he jumped, startled, before realizing it was just George, offering small comforts as always. Dream smiled at him as their gazes met, like a reflex, and everything felt right. He didn’t want anything more than this, and being healed sounded like heaven.

The evil thoughts stayed, though, tearing his hope to shreds. “I’m a bad person. I don’t deserve this.”

“I know what you are and what you have done. You have suffered for a long time, and it’s my decision regardless. How do you think you were suddenly able to escape?” XD’s expression became smug, a surprising look from a deity.

~~~

_ Dream was pacing, again. He told himself it was purely for exercise, but that was a lie. It was to shove his thoughts down, to stop the aching and self-hatred by working his legs until he was too exhausted to think. It was a kind of cleansing ritual that he created for himself in his loneliness, one of many. _

_ The sound of a chest opening and closing broke through his reverie, and he shot over to the wooden box, wondering what it could have possibly been. Nestled among the bundles of paper, quills, and dripping bottles of ink were three new items: a diamond pickaxe, a fire resistance potion, and a bucket of milk. It was exactly enough to get him out, and he immediately started formulating a plan, barely even sparing a second to wonder  _ how _ such items would end up in his chest in the first place _ .

~~~

“It was you?” Dream asked incredulously, trying to combine this knowledge with the information he already had on the entity in front of him. “Why?”

“Because it was time for you to come home,” XD said simply.

“Home? What does that mean?”

“I can make us whole again, dear one,” XD promised. “You do not need to hurt anymore.”

A tear fell before Dream even realized he was crying, and George was so quick to wipe it away, to coo soothing noises and hum something soft. Dream was starting to believe, and his entire soul was desperate to be free of the tattered mortal shell it had been trapped in. Hope streaked through him, and he turned to George. “What do you think?

George tipped back a little, shocked that his opinion was important in a divine matter, but he took the question seriously, pursing his lips and really considering it before replying. “I don’t know what would be best for you. I can speculate that being made whole might be the best thing for you, but you are independent and stubborn as hell. Maybe you would prefer the pain if it meant keeping your autonomy? The only person who can know for sure is  _ you _ .”

“The choice is entirely yours, Dream,” XD swore, crossing its fingers over where its heart could be. “If you choose to reject it, you can leave and never return, however… I would love to have you back.”

Dream was still unsure. His brain bouncing back and forth, wanting freedom and form, but needing to be reunited, and his heart was practically tearing through his chest in its effort to reconnect with his lost parts. 

The choice was clear, though, when XD added one final piece. “And, I just want to say, I’m sorry for abandoning you to the mortal world, my son. George has told me, has put into real perspective what it must have been like for you, and I shouldn’t have done it. I’m so sorry.”

The apology thrummed through him, ringing him like a gong. Suddenly, he could  _ feel _ it, the connection to the deity in front of him, like a thin thread tying them to each other, drawing him in, trying to stitch them back together.

“I’ll do it.”

George started crying then, tears of joy. “I love you, Dream, and I’ll love you until the day I die. I’m so glad you won’t have to hurt anymore.” He threw his arms around Dream, sobs shaking his shoulders, and held him close.

“Whenever you are ready, Dream. I’m here with you. It will be okay.” XD was smiling, softly and sweetly, a promise of healing and safety and love. 

It still felt too good to be true, but Dream couldn’t help it. The choice was entirely his own, but some part of him had been craving this for as long as he could remember, even if he didn’t know what “this” was. With a final squeeze to George, he turned to XD and said, “I’m ready.”

XD held out its arms, spreading them wide in an open, welcoming gesture. There was no hesitation as Dream stepped forward, slipping inside the embrace without looking back. He could hear George’s uneven breathing, the occasional choked hitch to the rhythmic sound, but he wasn’t scared. Something told him that everything would be alright.

The moment they touched, Dream felt it. He hadn’t realized how obliterating the pain had been until it started to fade away. His head fell back, gasping a breath of clean fresh air into a body that didn’t hurt, didn’t ache, didn’t  _ hate _ him. Tears fell again, coursing down his face in twin rivers, and he shook with the power of it.

From George’s perspective, Dream just vanished, sinking into the very being of XD, melting into the deity in a golden explosion of light, before ceasing to exist. George collapsed to his knees, suddenly wondering if he had  _ killed _ his best friend and first love, lamenting his naivety.

But Dream wasn’t gone. After a moment of adjustment, he found himself floating in an endless golden void, moving as if suspended in a thick liquid. He swam up to the top, pushing on until he could get to his eventual goal, and  _ click _ .

George was in front of him, bawling and clutching himself desperately. Dream needed to make those tears go away. “Georgie?”

George’s eyes shot up. “Dream?”

“Yeah, I’m here! I’m okay.” Dream felt himself smile, and hoped it was reassuring.

It seemed to do the trick. Without a second of hesitation, George launched himself right into DreamXD’s chest, holding it so close that, if it had needed to breathe, it couldn’t have. “Fuck, I was so worried. You’re really okay?”

Dream thought about it for a moment, and he realized he couldn’t even remember what it felt like to not be okay. He might have even labeled himself as good. No,  _ great _ . “Absolutely sure.”

It took some time to adjust, but eventually, Dream and XD blended back together. Dream’s perspective and experience from the mortal world helped XD understand George better, and XD took all the pain away. Dream had been suffering far more than he could have possibly understood, and the second he let himself back in, it was gone. He was whole.

His poor mortal mind had been completely unable to comprehend being a demi-god. He acted out because he had been in touch with pure divinity and had it stolen from him. There was an ache he couldn’t fill because he didn’t even know it was possible to lose what he was missing. How can you experience the depth and breadth of an entire universe, the very breath of life that echoed off every creature and plant, and the connection to the earth, when you are just mortal? How can you live without it when you have known it?

XD had no way of knowing what he was doing, but still it apologized to that piece of him, even once they were one and the same. It realized that it should have just run away with George in the first place, instead of putting up the charade.

So that’s what they did. DreamXD and George settled in the little house in the dark oak forest, hidden away from whatever the rest of the server had to offer and completely safe. The boredom that Dream expected to come never did. The world around him was so  _ alive _ , practically  _ bursting _ with things he could experience. He often found himself dragging George around to show him little things he had discovered. George would complain the entire time, but they both knew he secretly loved that Dream was passionate about the world again, that he was passionate about George.

DreamXD abandoned the rest of the world, left it to fall to ruins or find utopia on its own. It might have been deserting its sacred duty, but it couldn’t care. Its world became George, and it lived for making George smile. It and Dream, working together, spent the rest of time trying to make George as happy as they could.

They were incredibly successful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not being a Dream apologist, btw! This is an AU and headcanon rolled into one. And please note, he had been in prison for YEARS before he was let out.


End file.
